Failure
by JulVe
Summary: England knew that he would have to move on, knowing that he indeed, had failed. (Trigger warnings: Abuse, mentioned suicide attempt, drug use) (Another warning for OOCness)


**So before anything, I have some things you should know:**

**1.) This is my first fanfiction, so I highly doubt that this would look good, nor do I expect anyone reading it. Congrats if you are.**

**2.) There are no pairings, only some OCs who are only minor characters. **

**3.) English is not my first language, so please tell me if there are any grammar mistakes.**

**4.) This is still undergoing the rewriting stage, so if you want me to change anything feel free to tell me (pm/review).**

(THURSDAY/ 2 AM / HOSPITAL)

_Beep_. _Beep_.

The slow beeping of the heart monitor echoed through the room. It may have been inconsistent and faint, but it is still there. What matters is that the monitor is making sounds. Only a redhead sat beside the bed, whose breathing was deep and shaky which differed with the man laying on the bed, whose breaths were shallow but steady. The room is large, even though its only occupants were the two men and a small number of machineries. The bed sat in the middle, with a window on the far right side of the room. The room was dead silent, except for the occasional beeps of the monitor. The outside, however, is not as deafening as the inside.

Outside the room were groups of nations, who all had the fear and worry that the man would die. They generated noise, which does not create that much of a disturbance (when compares to the world meetings) in the building. Even the most intimidating ones in the group had looks of fear and worry. Scratch that, even the ones who disliked the man looked concerned. Although they disliked that man's attitude and personality, no one wished the man death. It would be very immoral.

At first, the people only shrugged it off. Some did pitied the brit, but most had laughed and said that he was only dramatizing. Whenever the blonde did open about his insecurities, some of them used it as a way to tease him. Let's just say that it did not help him, not at all. It made him worse, to the point that the poor male stopped going to the meetings. His absence in meetings were simply unheard of, much to the others' confusion. It was questionable, but they went to the conclusion that the brit was only sick, but the speculation collapsed when his absence with the meetings grew more frequent, which not only created more theories, but also raised suspicion. It had reached its peak when a few fairies and the brit's favorite, the flying mint bunny, had entered the meeting with a spell which made them visible.

The creatures amazed the people, it was uncommon for them. It confused them, but only made it worse when they had announced the brit's violent and shocking impulses. They had even shown the man's note and his supposed last will, both of which had tear stains. But even with these, most of the countries denied this and nervously laughed. No one could believe that the brit could be associated with self-annihilation. It only made everything more confusing. In anger, the creatures stopped time and showed the memories that gave destructive turns to the male's mental stability.

(MONDAY/ 11 AM / WORLD MEETING)

"I can't believe this!" One of the fairies screamed, kicking papers which were neatly stacked on the table. She gave off a red aura, warning the others not to get near her. There is also another fairy who gave off a depressing aura, who hyperventilated and crumbled to the ground.

"You really don't believe us?" The bunny asked, voice full of despair.

"He wouldn't have been able to do it anyways." America chuckled nervously. "His pride is too large for that."

The flying mint bunny flew around as the room began to disappear. "Then let me prove ourselves." It said as the nations started becoming invisible, except for Matthew that is. The boy's already invisible to start. They were all teleported into some kind of forest. None of them recognized it, except for the members of the UK, Ireland and France.

There they saw a little boy clutching what seems to be a broken teddy bear. He was trying to fix one of its eyes using a small needle and thread. He was under a tree with grass and bushes surrounding the area. It was nice and peaceful, until hard footsteps were heard in the distance. The boy, who was at peace just a second ago, became a trembling boy who climb and hid on a tree, the plush toy dropping from his hands.

"Mon petit lapin was so cute when he was small." Muttered the frenchman, before giving a loud and dramatic sigh. "Look at him now." He stated, then hearing small chuckles.

"Albion!" A small redhead bellowed as two other boys followed him. Said boy trembled in his hiding spot, holding his breath. It was after several minutes that the taller boys started leaving, before a certain Welsh noticed the teddy bear on the ground. He smirked before gripping the tree next to it firmly and shook it, satisfied when he heard a small yelp.

"Alba, I found him!" He laughed as the small boy fell from the tree. And what did the Welsh do? He did not catch him. The brit groaned in pain, clutching the arm he fell on. Tears fell from the boy's eyes as he whimpered. "What a pathetic crybaby. Is that all you could do?" The taller boy sneered before grabbing the brit and shoving him to the redhead, only to trip on the ground.

"Ye can't even keep your balance? How the hell do ye' call yourself a nation?" The scot said, words filled with acidity and bitterness. "Y'won't grow if y'keep chickening out, Albion." He sneered before stepping on the boy's injured arm, grinning when a painful shriek erupted from the brit's throat. He looked at the other two and signaled them to do their thing; giving the boy a beating, More tears ran down his eyes as the boys left, with only the Irishman looking back with eyes that shone with pity.

Said nations were ashamed as they lowered their heads. Northern Ireland yelled and scolded them since he never knew that this actually happened. Germany also lectured them about how that was not roughhousing and was child abuse.

"It's sibling rivalry!" Wales defended, though his expression was against his own words.

"No, that's called beating-up-a-small-dude-for-no-reason, and that's very unheroic!" America said, before claiming that he was a hero. The nations rolled their eyes. He really could not read the atmosphere.

The frenchman cursed the Celtic brothers in French, which, nearly no one actually understood. He really liked the brit when he was small since he was innocent. Keyword: was.

The brothers knew what they did though. The treatment was supposed to make the brit stronger, even if it meant scaring him. And what did it do? Yes, he began fearing and hating them, but he was also able to conquer half of the world when he was still an empire.

'Well, I guess I shouldn't have been too rough.' Scotland thought, not listening to France.

Before the frenchman launched himself though, the memory flickered, and suddenly it was raining. The rain passed through the nations, making them incredibly uncomfortable. The American shivered since he knew when this was. The nations followed the creatures before entering a house, which looked like a disaster. Broken glass were everywhere, bottles of different liquor sat in different areas. In the office sat a brit who had his head down.

"Was this after the..." America started but could not finish. He looked at the bunny, who nodded. His whole body, even the other nations flinched when they saw the brit look up with widened eyes. His eyes were constricted and bloodshot as he laughed. His laughter though was different. It was not the laugh that resembled happiness. It was a manic laughter that sent chills to the nations. The brit then started coughing as blood poured from each cough. A fairy then went to him, concern, fear, worry, mixed emotions written on her face.

"Ahaha! You look like a midget!" England yelled as he laughed hysterically, tears pouring out from his eyes. He pointed at the fairy, only to laugh again, harder. It was terrifying

Italy screamed and hid behind Germany. Germany just gave a loud sigh, but he does agree for it being scary.

"This smell is familiar. Very familiar." America said, getting an affirmative nod from the Japanese man. "I agree with-" "Give your own opinions, Japan!" Switzerland yelled, but a little bit more gentle because of the atmosphere.

"No, I think I know what this is, America-san, Switzerland-san." The Japanese man said. "I think it is taima, or cannabis."

"England?" The fairy called out, but was drowned out when the brit started laughing again, as if he was a psychopath. "Albion?" She tried again without success. The brit was just laughing from euphoria. "Arthur!" She yelled in desperation. The brit stopped and looked at her, a manic grin plastered on his face. "Stop!" She yelled and dragged the brit to his bed. After a few moments of calming him down, she decided to ask what had happened.

"Hm? What happened? Hmmm..." The male hummed, trying to put together what had happened before these things had happened. He looked at himself to help piece what had happened, and the moment he looked at a mirror, he started remembering. "Remember the boy I loved?" He started, getting a small nod from the fairy. "Yeah, he left. Looks like he got tired of my pestering. Ha! He does not need me anyways." He chuckled, tears threatening to fall as he sat on a wooden chair. "I'll be fine, I just need time." He said, voice trembling. "I'll be fine..." He repeated, hands beginning to shake. "I'll be..." Tears began to fall from his face. The American felt his heart clench at the scene.

Some of the nations felt empathetic for him, especially China, who had gone through this plenty of times, but none this badly. He had moved on from then, and had not regret them becoming independent, especially since they became strong. But for the brit, it was different.

The memory switched into the brit, still in his house, but now a bit more cleaner. He sat on a couch, his eyes completely empty and lifeless. "What happened?" Flying mint bunny asked as it looked at him, eyes filled with concern. "They left."

"Who?" It asked again, anxiety eating its mind.

"All of them. There's no one left." England bit his lip, pushing himself not to get emotional again. Pictures of nations who once had been in his household was shattered yet their paintings remained untouched. Objects he made for the nations were broken, but the things made for him were in their best states. The bunny comforted him, saying that everything will be fine, that there's nothing to worry. That everything will be okay. The brit appreciated the effort, but it wasn't enough. He sighed exhaustedly, got up and went to his bedroom. There, he pulled out a drawer and reached the end of it, managing to get one

The more emotional nations were tearing up. The grumpy nation being emotional was completely unheard of, and shocked them. His former colonies felt guilt, but they had to do it. They needed to become independent.

"I only wanted him to watch me grow. To watch me become a strong nation, a hero, and be proud of me." America said in a low voice. He did regret it, but what should he do? What would happen to his nation if he did not claim his independence? It might have took a turn to the worst. It startled some of the nations who did not know his serious side.

"We only wanted him to look up on us." The Australian said, with others agreeing.

They teleported once more, in a room where England sat on a couch. He seemed to be deep in thought until a butler came in. The man had a blue uniform and stood perfectly straight.

"I hate to tell this to you sir, but Japan's boss took a trip to see Russia." The butler deadpanned, still reading the piece of paper in his gloved hand.

"I have talked to England-san about this. We had been in better terms since then." Japan stated, relieving the other nations, yet they were still worried of his reaction.

"What, Russia?!" The brit almost screamed, but it was impolite to do so.

"I believe his goal is to get Russia and Japan become better friends than you and Japan, and then, well, they will probably sign a Russo-Japanese treaty and turn against us." The butler said, his calm gaze rereading the paper. Meanwhile, the other man seemed to had lost it.

"Easy peasy Japanesey!" The butler flinched and looked at him questioningly.

"Japanesey?" America repeated before chuckling. "And you get angry of my grammar!"

"That's right! I'm perfectly used to being alone!" Some of the nations froze before the brit started laughing maniacally. It was as if he was a madman. The butler looked just as disturbed as some of the nations, started staring at the man whose laughter would scare adults away. Adults.

The room then became pure black. No one could see the floor, nor the walls. It was as if they were levitating in space.

"Now, do you believe us?" One of the fairies perked up, giving icy glares at the nations. They did show their affirmation by different gestures. "Well then, let's save him."

They were suddenly back in the room, with the clock ticking. There was too much to lose.

(?/ ? / DARKNESS)

Darkness. That is all there is. Emerald eyes gazed into the abyss. The blonde male decided to walk, to where? No one knows. He felt numb. How long was he here?

"Hello?" He called out for a numerous number of times, voice echoing through the space. It confused him. What happened? Why is he here? Where is he? No answers were given. The brit walked again, just to go to nowhere. His ears began ringing from the emptiness of sound.

"Failure." A soft voice whispered, which too, echoed in the abyss. "Hello?" He asked again, now knowing that he was not alone.

"Pathetic." It said again, words overflowing with acidity.

"Wha-"

"Worthless." It continued. The brit tried ignoring the voice, but it was the only thing he could give his attention on. He covered his ears, attempting to drown out the sound.

"Stop!"

"What, and deny who you are? Oh please." It spat.

"I... already know that." He sighed. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Huh. Hmm... Do you want to know what happened?"

"No." The brit said, sitting down on what he assumed to be the ground.

"Then here's two words." The voice sighed.

"You failed."

Light began to filter his vision. A blinding light, that is.

(SATURDAY/ 4 PM / HOSPITAL)

People, or nations, gathered around the bed. It was predicted that he will wake up today, which made the nations excited. Their eyes were on the man on the bed, who was started squirming.

He did not know where he was. Why is there light? He felt something soft below him, as if he was on a bed. Something was beeping just next to him. The moment he opened his eyes, he saw a blurry figure of a man. It took a few seconds for him to recognize the man. It was a redhead, with green eyes. Scotland?

"What?" The brit asked, looking dazed.

And there, voices began coming out from different directions.

"Why would you do that?"

"I will hit you if you do that again!"

"We were worried that you won't wake up!"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

The brit only looked more confused. The scot scolded the other nations to shut up, before turning back to the brit. "Do you know who I am?"

"S...cotland?" The brit said, incredibly unsure of his answer, but the redhead seemed satisfied.

"Do you know where you are?" He asked again. England looked around him, not really recognizing the other spaces. He did see that he is in a white room. There is a thing beside him, which beeped loudly, and bags filled with red liquid that is connected to his body.

"Hospital?" Scotland, satisfied with the answer, began telling how the brit was important to his life. Even the other nations told him how they cared.

The brit listened to them, not knowing why they were telling this to him. Something was off, he was sure of it. Why was he in the hospital? Why are they suddenly caring for him? What's going on? He asked himself as memories decided to use this time to flood his mind. Time seemed to stop as the figures in front of him were talking all at once.

It took him a few minutes before it clicked.

He failed.

Some of the nations had left and had called nurses to help the brit, who looked as if he ran a thousand kilometers. He was breathing heavily, sweating continuously and his heartbeat was fast. The only thing different is the tears evident in his eyes.

He failed annihilating himself. Why, out of all the things, why even this? He just had to be a failure in everything. He began panicking, which was obvious from the way the heart monitor began beeping faster. It was all too much. Why did he have to fail one simple task? Why did he have make a fool of himself once again? He already looked into the face of death, yet he did not seem to reach it. How was he this weak? Now he has to continue living hell, knowing he had failed his one last chance of escape.

**If anybody reads this, please tell me if I should make another chapter, or, something. I don't know.**


End file.
